Glass Half Full

CHAPTER SEVEN

Andi stayed in my room for a couple minutes longer, until she decided that her apology was forgiven and all wrongs had been written as right.

I'm not sure if it was because I had already been in an emotional state, but not having a single moment alone with Whiskey yet has made me sad.

It's made me so sad, in fact, that I'm about to get up and search for her myself.

But then I realize how weird that would seem, and I don't want to come off as desperate. Instead of running through the island as if I was a headless chicken, I read through my lines for the tenth time.

The plot is easy enough to understand—it's about a college student finding out her brother's been murdered and she's next on the list of victims. She tries to solve the murder while also escaping the constant attacks on her life. I believe it's a book-to-movie adaptation.

"I know what you've done. He's been killed and I'm next, right?" I practice my line, pretending to be speaking on the phone to the mystery murderer.

"Once I find out what happened and who the murderer is, I'm going straight to the police. Then, justice will finally be brought and I can live the rest of my life as normal as possible," I'm about to say the next line, when a soft hand glides around my neck.

I freeze, unaware of who is behind me.

"What do you know?" Miles' voice comes from behind me, his pelvis jutting into my backside.

I release a breath I didn't know I was holding. I thought I was in real danger for a second.

"Miles, thank you for trying to help me, but that's not the line." I relax my shoulders and try to pry his hand away from my throat. When he doesn't budge, I try to turn around and look at him.

"Come on Miles, let me go so I can show you when you come in." He finally lets go and I walk over to my bed and grab the script.

I flip a couple of pages until I get where I am and point to where his lines are.

It's not until then when I look at him. His eyes are piercing, judging me on a level I know is only capable to come from him. His hands now rest on his hips and his lips are set in a frown.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

My arms drop and I stand directly in front of him. I know he hates when I do that—I happen to be taller than him.

He refuses I wear heals when we're together in public, I always have to stand a bit behind him in pictures to make me look smaller, and we can't be standing next to each other in front of people.

He says it ruins his image, emasculates him, and claims that it looks wrong when a woman is taller than a man. I usually tell him that I can't control my height, and that it is what it is.

I know for a fact ever since we've been hanging out in public, he has bought at least ten pairs of inconspicuously high-healed shoes for himself.

"Daphne, I just..." he looks off to the side, and I can tell he's royally pissed off, I just don't know what about.

"What is it, Miles?" I ask.

I throw down the script back onto the bed and try to look him in the eyes.

"I'm just stressed... about the launch of Klear America. This is a big deal for Alpha. I'm taking a lot of weight for this project, and it hasn't even been released yet! I need someone to... help me with it all."

He rests his hands on my shoulders and I suddenly feel a little out of breath. He backs me up until I'm against the couch, then pushes down on my shoulders to make me sit.

His height leverage makes me feel inferior—which was probably his aim.

"W-well like I said before, I just need a little time to think about it—"

"Time is up, Daphne," he cuts me off harshly, making me slightly flinch at his volume. He notices, and puts on a slight smile while lowering his voice.

"I can't wait any longer. We can make the announcement at the launch party. That way we can celebrate two things at once, okay?" He pats my shoulders and doesn't wait for confirmation before leaving my villa.

"Oh, and Daph?" Miles stops himself before closing the door.

I look up from where I've kept my gaze at the floor.

"Dinner's at eight." He winks and walks off.

I stand up and lean against my bed, trying to fully digest what he said. I knew that I would have to say yes, but I guess I never really thought about having to be married to Miles.

I loudly sigh and try to find my phone so I can contact my manager. Lord knows she already knows, but I want to make sure a wedding can fit into my schedule.

"Where the fuck is it?" I'm throwing my bags around trying to look for my phone. I check under the bed, behind the small couch, in the bathroom, everywhere.

"What the hell," I put my hands on my head and spin around in slow circles, analyzing the room. At this point, I'm getting pretty frustrated.

With Miles trying to control my life, my feelings towards whiskey, and the inevitable downfall of Klear America, my life has gotten only more complicated since my father died.

Finally, I hear my phone ding and I go to grab it, only tripping over my bedding twice.

"Hello?" I'm out of breath from trying to reach my phone before it turned off, and attempting to escape from the booby-trap of bedding on my floor.

"Hey, Daph. Still wanna meet up before dinner?" Whiskey's voice through the phone makes me freeze.

I take a quick glance through the mirror by the door at my appearance. I almost physically cringe at the sight of my messy braids and wrinkled clothing.

"Sure sure, let me just finish this... thing that I'm doing and then I can meet you somewhere. That okay?" I say, walking across my room towards my suitcase.

"That's fine. How does the beach sound?" There's a bit of shuffling on her side of the phone.

"Sounds great! I'm ready—I'm almost ready. I'll meet you at the beach," I pull the phone away from my face before putting it back to say something else.

"Wait, what side of the beach—never mind, I'll probably see you," I pause for a moment.

"Unless you're going to the far side of the island, then I won't be able to see yo—"

"Daph, we'll see each other. See you soon." Whiskey cuts me off and chuckles as she hangs up.

I stand there for a moment, still holding the phone to my ear.